


Heatwave

by indevan



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Food Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair is a whiny diaperbaby about the heat.  His boyfriend has some thoughts on this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heatwave

Alistair let out a groan as the oscillating fan oscillated its way away from him.

“Wait...come back,” he whimpered.

He would have stretched his arms out to reach for the fan but he was too hot and sticky to move them from where they were thrown over his head.  He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch since he slogged his way out of bed some time after noon.  His sweat was shellacking him to the couch’s pleather exterior and the amount of ice lollipops he had eaten so far today had done nothing to combat the heat.  In fact all they had done was give him a sugar headache.

His situation wasn’t helped by the fact that Devyn was baking in the kitchen.  The oven seemed to be throwing even more heat into the tiny, sweltering apartment.

“Dev!” he whined.

Almost immediately, his boyfriend appeared in front of him.  Devyn wore only his ghost-print boxer shorts and an old Hypercolor shirt that currently bore patches of bright green against the orange from his own perspiration.  He was still more clothed than Alistair that only had on his boxer briefs.

“Yes?”

“Why are you baking?”

“Because I like to bake and, if I recall, _you_ like my baking, too.”

“Yes but...it’s hot!”

Devyn sighed and put his hands on his hips.

“Al, my classes were cancelled today because of the heatwave.  How else am I going to become a world-renowned pastry chef if I don’t practice?”

“But it’s hot!”

Despite his whining, he knew that arguing with Devyn was fruitless.  He was always going to ridiculous lengths to be a better baker although usually these attempts didn’t involve Alistair.  There was a big difference between him staying up until four in the morning trying to perfect a raspberry-lemon buttercream and baking in the apartment when it was already over one hundred degrees.  And in this case, Alistair couldn’t pick him up by the middle and drag him off to bed.  He was too lethargic and wilted to even move.

“The cupcakes are in the oven.”

“Not helping!”

Devyn shrugged and went back to the kitchen.  Alistair was tempted to ask him to bring him another ice lolly but remembered his previous headache and decided against it.  The fan made its way back to him and blew cool relief on his sweaty body before cruelly moving away once more.  Alistair let out another pathetic whimper.  He hated the heat.

“Here.”

He looked up to see that Devyn had returned.  He held a bowl in his skinny arms.

“What is that?”

“Batter.”

He set it on the coffee table next to the fan.

“Batter?”

Devyn dipped his index finger into it and scooped out a sizeable dollop.

“Yeah.  Rejected batter.  I accidentally put in too much sugar...and forgot the eggs.” He grinned. “It’s nice and cool, though.  Look, feel.”

He trailed his finger down Alistair’s chest and he shivered despite the heat.  The batter was indeed quite cool.  Devyn brought his finger to Alistair’s mouth and let him suck the remaining batter off of it.

When his finger was clean, he leaned back and peeled off his Hypercolor shirt.  It was now mostly green anyway.

“You forgot the eggs?” Alistair asked.  His mind was bleary from the heat and so, of course, that’s what he focused on.

“The heat.” Devyn tapped the side of his head. “Made me forgetful.  But, hey, now we don’t have to worry about salmonella.  Open up.”

He did as he was told and Devyn’s slick, cool fingers slipped into his mouth.  He could definitely taste the extra sugar--the batter was a bit grainy--but the coolness of it made up for the texture.  Devyn dipped his fingers into the bowl again and this time began finger-painting on his chest and belly, sweeping his finger around in swirling patterns.  Alistair’s hands clenched and he let out another whimper.  The whimper grew into a groan as Devyn bent down and began licking the batter off.  His tongue was hot but that didn’t seem to matter as he lapped up the batter.

Alistair arched his back upwards at the touch, his whole body tingling.  The combination of the cool batter and the hot strokes of Devyn’s tongue mingling with the intermittent air from the fan were creating the most interesting sensation throughout his body.

“Dev...”

Devyn pulled himself on top of him, bringing the bowl with him to rest on Alistair’s belly.  He dipped both hands into the batter now an slapped them on his chest, leaving small, yellow-tinted handprints.  He bent over the bowl and lapped them up, keeping his gaze locked with Alistair’s.

“Dev...”

He could most certainly forgive him for baking in the apartment.  He could barely even feel the heat.

Alistair reached out and put his hands on his skinny hips, wanting to pull him closer.  Somewhere, far away, he heard a ding.  Devyn apparently heard it, too, because he scrambled off of him quickly.

“Ooh, the cupcakes are done!”

In his haste to get to the kitchen, he knocked the bowl of batter right over on top of Alistair’s upper body, soaking his neck and chin.

Defeated, sweaty, and now sticky, he lay back on the couch.

“Wait...” he said, echoing his futile cry for the fan earlier that afternoon. “Come back.”


End file.
